The Dead: Piper's Diary
by Sweetpanda12
Summary: Just a one-shot diary entry into the female penguin of the The Dead. Can be accepted as canon or non-canon. Rated T for blood and gore references, and multi-lingual swearing.


**So, I've released a fic for the first time in a long time.**

**...**

**I really can't find any words right now since I'm tired and have just finished this. All I can say is that it can be canon alongside 890X001's Story 'The Dead', so I recommend reading that first before you read on.**

**I've covered a song and put it on Soundcloud, and named it as 42: Cover of Coldplay, which is the music to listen to while reading this. Search it up there and you'll find it under sweetpanda13. I just seemed to find 42 as the sort of song that would describe Piper for this story.**

**I don't own Pom, 'The Dead', Tanya, or any similar that is mentioned in here. Just Piper, Nuka and Krys.**

**Thanks for taking the time to read this.**

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><p><em>Piper heaved in her breath heavily, her mind numb from what just happened within a few hours. She took whatever was left of her family. Her twin, Krys had been shot, and she found out that her little sister Nuka was killed by Ringo.<em>

_Ringo..._

_"Javla'd up bastard," She growled, "I'll kill him."_

_"Kill who?" Tanya asked, slightly surprised from her friend's words._

_"Ringo. I'm gonna find the nearest blade I see laying free, drench it in Geek blood and see how he likes a piece of his own medicine! How dare he touch my sisters!"_

_"I know Pipes, I'm pissed too," Tanya admitted, "But we just escaped from him, we can't go back now when he's all fired up."_

_"I understand, and all due things come in good time, but I just can't stop thinking about them. I'm gonna drive myself crazy by thinking of how Krys always tied up that bowtie of hers, Nuka giggling over boy bands in magazines. I feel as if unless I kill Ringo and pay him back for what he did, I'm gonna be insane."_

_There was a small silence for a while before Tanya spoke again._

_"If it helps, I found this old notebook," she handed her a black leather notebook, what once could've been owned by a rich person, now stained with brown old bloodstains, "It has a fair amount of empty pages in it, so maybe you could write something to help calm you down."_

_"Thanks. I'll think of something soon. You should get some sleep. It's my turn to do sentry duty anyway."_

_"You're welcome. G'night Piper." With that, Tanya lay her head down and instantly fell asleep._

_The moon was the only source of light now, the lanterns had been blown out a while ago. Piper stared at the old notebook, flicking through the pages that had been filled, over and over until it landed on a blank page. _

_A pen was inside it. It had enough ink in it too._

_She picked it up with a shaky flipper. Her late sister's trenchcoat on top of Piper's military jacket didn't help her shivering._

__Without much thought, she began to write.__

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><p>My sisters are dead, I am the only one left.<p>

Why did I start with that? Sacre merde, that's depressing. Then again, their deaths have given me instant depression.

Let me try again.

My name is Piper. I was born in New Zealand, alongside my sisters, my twin Krys and my little one, Manuka, but we call her Nuka for short. Or called her. Krys and Nuka are dead. All they are all just corpses now. All I have left of them are memories, My twin's old cosplay and my little sister's necklace.

I know who killed them. I exactly know the man who killed them. Ringo. No, not that Beatles member, a psychopath named Ringo. His disgusting smile still burns an angry path of anger into my mind.

There is so much I wanna do to him. Much much more than dipping a blade in the undead's blood and stabbing him with it. I wanna rip Ringo from limb to limb, stab him like he did Nuka, leaving his body to bleed out to nothingness, having fresh meat to give out to the Runners. There is just so, so much more I want to give to him as revenge, but I have no words to explain.

So I guess I'll write about my sisters and the history we shared up till now. I'll start with who my sisters were.

My twin sibling was Krystal, but we always called her Krys for short. She always had a fascination with science and sci-fi stuff, especially this show called 'Doctor Who'. That's where she has her bowtie and trenchcoat from, the ones I'm wearing now are hers. Or used to be. But that's beside the point. She always was inventing something, in her head or in reality. She mentioned to me one time that she'd love to build a working...ah, I can't remember what it was called. Oh yeah, a TARDIS. She wanted to build a working TARDIS one day. I can't remember what it stands for but I remember it was a blue police box that was bigger on the inside and could go through all time and space. Krys succeeded in making a time-machine teleporter, but it exploded after we overheated it from too much use. But despite all that, Nuka and I never did understand her obsession with that show.

Time machine...maybe was that the main reason why she liked it? So that if you made a mistake in the present, you could go back and fix it up in the past, preventing yourself from doing that thing? I think that's one of the reasons why Krys liked it. I think that's what sustained her sanity back in that she's when we were all locked up in: the fact that the possibility that we could go back in time and to that place, to prevent this whole fucking zombie outbreak.

I wish we could. Damn, my tears are messing up the ink but I don't care. I wish that Doctor Who was real and that we'd go back in time, save Krys from getting shot, get Nuka out of Ringo's hands and stop this whole damned thing from even happening. I bet she was clinging on to the thought of Doctor Who the whole time, hoping that blue box would come out of thin air, making that wheezing noise, taking us all in and saving others before going off to a place where we'd be safe.

But if she was hoping for that...she knew she was wrong. Krys knew that some of us were going to die, and I bet her gut told her that one of those lives that were gonna be killed was hers.

You know what? I'm going on. I'm not going to dwell on my twin any much longer. My little sister needs her time to shine.

Our little sister was named Manuka, after the honey, but we always called her Nuka after she had a small interest in nuclear weapons and the damage they could do. She always wore this necklace that was supposedly from our great-grandmother. It's a leather strap hanging loosely with a jadestone gem with a silver fern engraved on it. It's the same necklace I'm wearing now. I remember we were always a tease with her, pissing her off about whatever celebrities she took interest in. Krys and I pissed her about every celebrity she was into. Well, except one. It was the last celebrity that she took an interest in before she got killed.

Why? Well, before Nuka got into him, Krys and I had a crush on him before. The name still makes me have this ridiculous pleasant tingling over my body, so if you remember enough of the life before all this merde happened, what you're going to read next is going to sound familiar.

Goddamn that man in the mirror! The image of me and Krys as chicks, giggling so insanely over his sweet and childish attitude, is never gonna get out my head. The dancing, the moves, the music and their messages. Most of the songs have brought Krys and I to tears and made us wanna dance at the same time. We got lucky to see him once in person. He only had enough time to slip a signature on Krys's inside of her trenchcoat. Still the same one I'm wearing now.

We eventually grew out of it, but he made a lasting impact on the both of us. He was the reason I adapted to military jackets as my sense of style in the first place. He was also a big dreamer too, so Krys took that into action and that is where she started to invent to her heart's content, determined on changing the world for the better.

I remember what happened the day we heard he died. Tears, streaming down our faces, hugging eachother in disbelief, sadness, fear, and so many other emotions that I can't describe them all. I remember Nuka cried too, even though she didn't have much of an idea of who we were crying over at the time.

When Nuka came to find out who he really was and who she was really was crying over those few years back, the first thing we did was surprise her. We'd kept all the memorabilia that we had when we were fans, and we put it all into her room. Organised neatly, beautifully. I'll never forget her face when she stepped into the room. The pure joy and elation that was on her smile is gonna last for the rest of my life.

Whenever Nuka got new memorabilia, we'd congratulate her and help make it stand out in her room, amongst the rest of what she now owned. She knew a huge amount of the dance moves by heart, mainly because Krys and I taught it to her. Her specialty was Thriller, I remember. There was that one time she taught it to her whole class in school one Halloween and they had a stage adaption of the music video, her being in the lead role of course.

Thriller. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. I remembered just now what was in it. How could I have been so dumb?! It had zombies. A zombie attack. And him with it all, doing that effective dance that made the world sing along with him. And no body knew that only a few decades later, a real zombie attack would occur.

I just...feel so numb, thinking of it. It was so foreshadowing, except...more gruesome.

Crap...I'm getting tears again. They're messing up the ink again. I don't care. I only have two pages left. I might as well finish here. Finish it all off, why the hell I'm stuck in the middle of all this, not over or above it.

It's my fault. It's all my fault that I had to open my beak and suggest the trip to America. That's where the outbreak started. I've heard from one of our group members that it's gone worldwide, but if we'd stay in New Zealand, we'd have more time to prepare for the virus's effects and Krys and Nuka...they'd be alive. It's my fault. It's all my fault that I had to open my mouth. It's all my Javla'd fault that my siblings, my only family left, are dead!

There's so much tears on the pages I can't even write properly. But I'm gonna finish this.

Where am I now as I write this, you may ask, dear reader? Somewhere out in Georgia, America. Or what is left of America. Maybe that's where you found this entry. Or somewhere else in America. Or earth. I'm with a pretty large group, consisting of an interesting mix of people. Four other penguins used to be special agents in New York. The leader, Skipper and the tall one, Kowalski, remind me of Krys. A lot. The youngster, Private, he looks so naive. Almost like Nuka.

Well, it's the last space of the last page, so I'll finish off here quite sappy.

Oh Nuka, Krys and to so many more, I miss you all dearly and there will never be a day where I'll not think of you. Dear sisters, Ringo the psychopath shall be avenged upon your names. I will write your names out into the ground with his blood, leaving him out to the undead for him to feast upon. When he revives as one of the undead, I will kill him a second time, for my anger that has arisen in me.

I love you, my sisters. You will have justice.

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><p><em>Piper tucked the pen in her military jacket pocket before shutting the book.<em>

_That's when she saw them._

_Ghostly beings of her sisters. They were sitting, cross-legged in front of her, translucent, smiling a sad smile._

_Nuka was wearing a ghostly version of the necklace that her older sister had dangling around her neck._

_Krys was still wearing her trenchcoat and bowtie, as if Piper had never taken it off her. She then started making motions with her flippers near her neck and her twin started following them. When she had done, her smile brightened a little. She gently caressed her neck and Piper did the same. _

_What Piper felt on her neck and what she saw when she looked down was a perfectly tied bowtie. She had been unaware of the fabric that was in her flippers._

_Tears streaming down her face, Piper made a lunge with her arms to hug her sisters, but only grasped at thin air. Looking again, the translucent beings of what once her siblings were gone. _

_Realising what had happened, she grasped onto the black-and-brown-bloodstained leather book, containing the life she had lived._

_For a few dark navy blue minutes, Piper wept._

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><p><strong>For those who didn't understand <strong>**the multilingual swearing, allow me to be your translator.**

**Swedish: Javla=Fuck**

**French: Merde/Sacre Merde=Shit/holy shit.**

**With that being said, in case you didn't understand what happened to Piper in the end, she has a hallucination of seeing her siblings as ghosts. Because of this, she finds herself tying her twin's bowtie on her neck, properly.**

**Please review. Thanks for every one you leave behind. Constructive criticism is accepted.**


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